28. Kind person
Lisa couldn't stay still for a moment, pacing the street behind the mansion. It was almost time for the Viscount and his two young masters, who had gone to visit relatives, to return, but the young lady showed no sign of returning.
What if something happens even in the palace?
No matter how hard Lisa tried, she couldn't shake the ominous thoughts that kept coming to her mind. She regretted not telling the young lady, but disobeying the Queen's orders in such a way might have landed her in even greater trouble.
When word got out that someone was waiting in a back alley looking for Young Lady Hardy's maid, she assumed it was just another one of those pathetic prodigal sons who were always hovering around the young lady. Schwerin was full of fools who would come bearing flowers and gifts, seeking out the young lady's maid.
But Lisa, who had trudged there, unexpectedly appeared before her eyes: a stern-faced maid from Schwerin Palace. Any suspicions she might be a fraud vanished the moment she saw the carriage parked behind her. The wolf emblem, gleaming in gold, was undoubtedly that of a royal family.
The royal maid quietly and quickly took the young lady away, as if she were staging a kidnapping. Lisa was not permitted to accompany her.
If you were going to be this upset, you should have at least tried to force yourself to follow her.
Just as that regret was about to burst out in a sigh, a carriage appeared from across the road. It was the royal carriage that had carried Erna.
The sound of a blade cutting cloth permeated the quiet of the bedroom. The rhythmic sound only ceased late into the night.
Erna put down her scissors and stared blankly at her desk, filled with the flower petals she'd created with her own hands. It took a moment for her to remember what kind of flower she'd planned to make.
"Rose."
Erna whispered the name she had barely managed to recall and rubbed her swollen and throbbing hand.
The pergola, covered with blooming climbing roses, and the distant sound of gentle waves and seagulls came back vividly, as if they had been waiting for it. Memories of a table covered in white lace, beautiful porcelain, and the unrealistic face beyond it followed.
What would your grandmother's expression be if she found out that her granddaughter had a private meeting with Her Majesty the Queen?
The urge to write a letter to her immediately soon faded. If she learned that her granddaughter had met Her Majesty the Queen because of the scandalous affair with her son, Prince Bjorn, whose divorce was met with widespread condemnation, she might faint.
As the pain in her hand persisted, Erna briefly put down her work and stood up. She opened the window facing the garden, letting in a soft night breeze. Erna, unbuttoning the lace shawl she wore over her nightgown, leaned against the windowsill and gazed out at the garden shrouded in darkness.
It felt like she was dreaming.
As recently as the beginning of last spring, she was living an ordinary life in a remote rural village. Suddenly, she lost her grandfather, faced the prospect of losing her home, and struck a deal with her father, leading to this day. It still didn't feel real to Erna that such a series of catastrophic events had occurred in the space of just one season.
Especially with that huge event this afternoon.
As she recalled the conversation she had with the Queen, a deep sigh escaped her.
Erna explained everything that had happened from the day she first met Prince Bjorn to the present day in as much detail as possible. Her mind went blank, and she broke out in a cold sweat, but she still refused to add lies or distort the truth. Only then could she clear up any misunderstandings.
'Is that really what Bjorn wanted?'
The Queen, who had been listening silently, first expressed her doubts when she confessed that she had agreed to compensate for the lost deer antler trophy.
Erna, anxious at the thought of being suspected, desperately tried to prove her innocence. This led her to confess to her promise to sell the flowers to pay off her debt. She realized belatedly how a noble daughter would be perceived for doing such a thing, but once she had spoken, there was no way to take back her words.
'So, Miss Hardy made the harmony herself, sold it, used the money to pay for the lost trophy, and Bjorn readily accepted it all... Is that what you mean?'
The Queen's voice, as she asked again, was filled with an unconcealed sense of bewilderment.
'Bjorn, are you saying that kid really did that?'
The Queen finally asked that question and laughed in vain. Fortunately, there was no further questioning.
The time after that passed like an ordinary tea time.
The Queen skillfully led the casual conversation, and Erna offered polite replies. The Prince's name was never mentioned again, not even until the moment Erna finally left the villa.
Is this now properly explained?
She pondered and pondered, but it was difficult to reach a clear conclusion. The Queen was benevolent yet stern, cool yet affectionate. She resembled the Prince. Her pale blond hair and delicate yet sharp features were also characteristic.
Erna closed the window, as if erasing her suddenly vivid memories, and hurried back to her desk. Her hands still throbbed, but not so much that she couldn't work.
If you indulge in unnecessary sentimentality, your depression will only deepen, but if you work, you can reduce your debt.
Erna moved her hand, relying on that simple belief.
Even if the harmony was fetching a good price, she knew it was a paltry sum compared to the enormous sum she had to repay. With the Prince's trophy and now the loan from Pavel, she would have to produce enough flowers to adorn the hats of every lady in the city. The thought of how long it would take made her feel a sense of emptiness.
But this was the only solution Erna could find, so she was determined to give it her all. After all, the reality she had to face was always too big, too overwhelming, and too difficult.
Erna had become accustomed to a life that wasn't always kind to her. Of course, there were moments when she felt lost, sad, and heartbroken. But she also knew that life wouldn't always turn in a bad direction as long as she didn't give up on herself.
By the time she'd used up all the petals she'd made, it was already past midnight. Excluding the time she spent with the Queen, she'd spent the entire day making the flowers bloom.
After finishing cleaning up, Erna washed her hands thoroughly and then lay down on the bed. Deep fatigue allowed her to fall asleep without being bothered by useless thoughts.
That night, Erna created a flower in her dreams. It was as large as a palace.
“Look over there! It’s here!”
Peter, who had been scanning the crowd with wide eyes, let out a gasp of joy. The Hardy family had just entered the audience. At least for them, the star of the day's celebration, Erna Hardy, was there with them.
“I knew it would end up like this.”
Even as he laughed at the trembling crowd, Leonard secretly felt relieved. If Erna hadn't shown up, they would have been reduced to fools who had labored so painstakingly and in vain.
“My dear Miss Hardy, I am glad to see you can enjoy your boating adventure without any problems.”
“Oh. Are you sure you can take her on your boat?”
"Of course."
Even under the pouring gaze of mockery, Peter remained steadfast.
Of all those who participated in the bet, he sent Erna the most letters and gifts. Naturally, he also received the most replies. She even responded to letters expressing concern for her health with a thank-you note. While his letter contained a refusal, the noticeably larger and bolder handwriting clearly indicated a subtle reservation.
“You think you can seduce a woman who has even been involved in such a scandal with Bjorn Dneister?”
"That's because Bjorn used Miss Hardy to provoke his ex-wife. I'm different. We had an emotional connection."
Thinking about the pile of replies, Peter felt like he was already on board with Erna. Of course, one major variable still remained.
“Here comes your rival.”
Leonard, chuckling, pointed to the path leading to the gardens of Schwerin Palace. The King and Queen, accompanied by all the Princes and Princesses except Crown Prince Leonid, who was participating as a player, were entering the VIP section. The applause and cheers from the standing spectators heightened the festive atmosphere that filled the riverside.
“Look over there. Here we go, Bjorn.”
Peter approached Bjorn, who was seated on the royal throne at the highest point of the podium, and whispered softly. He ignored Princess Louise's scathing glare and took his seat next to Bjorn.
Bjorn, sitting leisurely with his legs crossed, turned his gaze to the far right corner of the stands, where Peter had pointed. Bjorn recognized the woman in the white dress immediately. Erna. It was his straight flush.
Bjorn, listening to Peter's pointless joke, gazed blankly down at the woman. As he lowered his eyes, the shadows on her long eyelashes became more distinct. The same was true for the smile on her gently curved lips.
“Hey! Here! Here!”
When Erna, who had been looking around, turned her head, Peter giggled with excitement.
Erna, who soon spotted them, flinched and gave them an awkward nod. The two returned the greeting with appropriate courtesy. The rumor about her poor health wasn't entirely false; her complexion was paler than before, but she was still beautiful. It was a pity that she would be of no use tonight and would disappear.
Erna, unsure where to look, turned back to face the front. Even though she was quite a distance away, he could sense the woman's cheeks flushing.
“Bjorn, if I were to seriously ask Miss Hardy out...”
Peter, who was looking at Erna's back with a look of regret, laughed and shook his head.
“I’m going to die.”
His gaze fell on his father, Count Bergen, who was laughing heartily not far away. A handsome man, he had been a renowned boxer in his youth. A few years earlier, he had demonstrated his glory in his prime by beating his eldest son, who had become obsessed with a maid, to the point of near death.
“Because my father will kill me.”
As Peter let out a sigh of resignation, an announcement was made that the game would begin soon.
Bjorn took off his gloves and leaned back against the back of his chair. Erna, who had been bowing her head, cautiously turned around just as an excited silence had taken over the audience.
In the silence that was like a taut bowstring, the two people's eyes met.
Unlike Erna, who was surprised, Bjorn's eyes, filled with the woman's gaze, remained deep and silent. Meanwhile, the match began.
The crowd's roar, deafening and deafening, began to shake the summer riverbank. Even then, their gazes remained fixed on each other, seemingly oblivious to the commotion of the world.
Lisa couldn't stay still for a moment, pacing the street behind the mansion. It was almost time for the Viscount and his two young masters, who had gone to visit relatives, to return, but the young lady showed no sign of returning.
What if something happens even in the palace?
No matter how hard Lisa tried, she couldn't shake the ominous thoughts that kept coming to her mind. She regretted not telling the young lady, but disobeying the Queen's orders in such a way might have landed her in even greater trouble.
When word got out that someone was waiting in a back alley looking for Young Lady Hardy's maid, she assumed it was just another one of those pathetic prodigal sons who were always hovering around the young lady. Schwerin was full of fools who would come bearing flowers and gifts, seeking out the young lady's maid.
But Lisa, who had trudged there, unexpectedly appeared before her eyes: a stern-faced maid from Schwerin Palace. Any suspicions she might be a fraud vanished the moment she saw the carriage parked behind her. The wolf emblem, gleaming in gold, was undoubtedly that of a royal family.
The royal maid quietly and quickly took the young lady away, as if she were staging a kidnapping. Lisa was not permitted to accompany her.
If you were going to be this upset, you should have at least tried to force yourself to follow her.
Just as that regret was about to burst out in a sigh, a carriage appeared from across the road. It was the royal carriage that had carried Erna.
***
The sound of a blade cutting cloth permeated the quiet of the bedroom. The rhythmic sound only ceased late into the night.
Erna put down her scissors and stared blankly at her desk, filled with the flower petals she'd created with her own hands. It took a moment for her to remember what kind of flower she'd planned to make.
"Rose."
Erna whispered the name she had barely managed to recall and rubbed her swollen and throbbing hand.
The pergola, covered with blooming climbing roses, and the distant sound of gentle waves and seagulls came back vividly, as if they had been waiting for it. Memories of a table covered in white lace, beautiful porcelain, and the unrealistic face beyond it followed.
What would your grandmother's expression be if she found out that her granddaughter had a private meeting with Her Majesty the Queen?
The urge to write a letter to her immediately soon faded. If she learned that her granddaughter had met Her Majesty the Queen because of the scandalous affair with her son, Prince Bjorn, whose divorce was met with widespread condemnation, she might faint.
As the pain in her hand persisted, Erna briefly put down her work and stood up. She opened the window facing the garden, letting in a soft night breeze. Erna, unbuttoning the lace shawl she wore over her nightgown, leaned against the windowsill and gazed out at the garden shrouded in darkness.
It felt like she was dreaming.
As recently as the beginning of last spring, she was living an ordinary life in a remote rural village. Suddenly, she lost her grandfather, faced the prospect of losing her home, and struck a deal with her father, leading to this day. It still didn't feel real to Erna that such a series of catastrophic events had occurred in the space of just one season.
Especially with that huge event this afternoon.
As she recalled the conversation she had with the Queen, a deep sigh escaped her.
Erna explained everything that had happened from the day she first met Prince Bjorn to the present day in as much detail as possible. Her mind went blank, and she broke out in a cold sweat, but she still refused to add lies or distort the truth. Only then could she clear up any misunderstandings.
'Is that really what Bjorn wanted?'
The Queen, who had been listening silently, first expressed her doubts when she confessed that she had agreed to compensate for the lost deer antler trophy.
Erna, anxious at the thought of being suspected, desperately tried to prove her innocence. This led her to confess to her promise to sell the flowers to pay off her debt. She realized belatedly how a noble daughter would be perceived for doing such a thing, but once she had spoken, there was no way to take back her words.
'So, Miss Hardy made the harmony herself, sold it, used the money to pay for the lost trophy, and Bjorn readily accepted it all... Is that what you mean?'
The Queen's voice, as she asked again, was filled with an unconcealed sense of bewilderment.
'Bjorn, are you saying that kid really did that?'
The Queen finally asked that question and laughed in vain. Fortunately, there was no further questioning.
The time after that passed like an ordinary tea time.
The Queen skillfully led the casual conversation, and Erna offered polite replies. The Prince's name was never mentioned again, not even until the moment Erna finally left the villa.
Is this now properly explained?
She pondered and pondered, but it was difficult to reach a clear conclusion. The Queen was benevolent yet stern, cool yet affectionate. She resembled the Prince. Her pale blond hair and delicate yet sharp features were also characteristic.
Erna closed the window, as if erasing her suddenly vivid memories, and hurried back to her desk. Her hands still throbbed, but not so much that she couldn't work.
If you indulge in unnecessary sentimentality, your depression will only deepen, but if you work, you can reduce your debt.
Erna moved her hand, relying on that simple belief.
Even if the harmony was fetching a good price, she knew it was a paltry sum compared to the enormous sum she had to repay. With the Prince's trophy and now the loan from Pavel, she would have to produce enough flowers to adorn the hats of every lady in the city. The thought of how long it would take made her feel a sense of emptiness.
But this was the only solution Erna could find, so she was determined to give it her all. After all, the reality she had to face was always too big, too overwhelming, and too difficult.
Erna had become accustomed to a life that wasn't always kind to her. Of course, there were moments when she felt lost, sad, and heartbroken. But she also knew that life wouldn't always turn in a bad direction as long as she didn't give up on herself.
By the time she'd used up all the petals she'd made, it was already past midnight. Excluding the time she spent with the Queen, she'd spent the entire day making the flowers bloom.
After finishing cleaning up, Erna washed her hands thoroughly and then lay down on the bed. Deep fatigue allowed her to fall asleep without being bothered by useless thoughts.
That night, Erna created a flower in her dreams. It was as large as a palace.
***
“Look over there! It’s here!”
Peter, who had been scanning the crowd with wide eyes, let out a gasp of joy. The Hardy family had just entered the audience. At least for them, the star of the day's celebration, Erna Hardy, was there with them.
“I knew it would end up like this.”
Even as he laughed at the trembling crowd, Leonard secretly felt relieved. If Erna hadn't shown up, they would have been reduced to fools who had labored so painstakingly and in vain.
“My dear Miss Hardy, I am glad to see you can enjoy your boating adventure without any problems.”
“Oh. Are you sure you can take her on your boat?”
"Of course."
Even under the pouring gaze of mockery, Peter remained steadfast.
Of all those who participated in the bet, he sent Erna the most letters and gifts. Naturally, he also received the most replies. She even responded to letters expressing concern for her health with a thank-you note. While his letter contained a refusal, the noticeably larger and bolder handwriting clearly indicated a subtle reservation.
“You think you can seduce a woman who has even been involved in such a scandal with Bjorn Dneister?”
"That's because Bjorn used Miss Hardy to provoke his ex-wife. I'm different. We had an emotional connection."
Thinking about the pile of replies, Peter felt like he was already on board with Erna. Of course, one major variable still remained.
“Here comes your rival.”
Leonard, chuckling, pointed to the path leading to the gardens of Schwerin Palace. The King and Queen, accompanied by all the Princes and Princesses except Crown Prince Leonid, who was participating as a player, were entering the VIP section. The applause and cheers from the standing spectators heightened the festive atmosphere that filled the riverside.
“Look over there. Here we go, Bjorn.”
Peter approached Bjorn, who was seated on the royal throne at the highest point of the podium, and whispered softly. He ignored Princess Louise's scathing glare and took his seat next to Bjorn.
Bjorn, sitting leisurely with his legs crossed, turned his gaze to the far right corner of the stands, where Peter had pointed. Bjorn recognized the woman in the white dress immediately. Erna. It was his straight flush.
Bjorn, listening to Peter's pointless joke, gazed blankly down at the woman. As he lowered his eyes, the shadows on her long eyelashes became more distinct. The same was true for the smile on her gently curved lips.
“Hey! Here! Here!”
When Erna, who had been looking around, turned her head, Peter giggled with excitement.
Erna, who soon spotted them, flinched and gave them an awkward nod. The two returned the greeting with appropriate courtesy. The rumor about her poor health wasn't entirely false; her complexion was paler than before, but she was still beautiful. It was a pity that she would be of no use tonight and would disappear.
Erna, unsure where to look, turned back to face the front. Even though she was quite a distance away, he could sense the woman's cheeks flushing.
“Bjorn, if I were to seriously ask Miss Hardy out...”
Peter, who was looking at Erna's back with a look of regret, laughed and shook his head.
“I’m going to die.”
His gaze fell on his father, Count Bergen, who was laughing heartily not far away. A handsome man, he had been a renowned boxer in his youth. A few years earlier, he had demonstrated his glory in his prime by beating his eldest son, who had become obsessed with a maid, to the point of near death.
“Because my father will kill me.”
As Peter let out a sigh of resignation, an announcement was made that the game would begin soon.
Bjorn took off his gloves and leaned back against the back of his chair. Erna, who had been bowing her head, cautiously turned around just as an excited silence had taken over the audience.
In the silence that was like a taut bowstring, the two people's eyes met.
Unlike Erna, who was surprised, Bjorn's eyes, filled with the woman's gaze, remained deep and silent. Meanwhile, the match began.
The crowd's roar, deafening and deafening, began to shake the summer riverbank. Even then, their gazes remained fixed on each other, seemingly oblivious to the commotion of the world.
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